


Amber

by Rad



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: ESS - Esca Secret Santa, ESS 2020, Gen, Gift Fic, Slice of life I guess? But not really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rad/pseuds/Rad
Summary: Folken's minding his own business in his laboratory when someone interrupts him.Done as a sub-in for Mick Aelle on dA for ESS 2020; sorry it's a tad late, I subbed-in at the last minute. Then I had life responsibilities when inspiration struck.Thenmy motivation fled. Damn that trifecta... you can only have two..Folken says 'horseshit' but I don't think that that necessitates a T+ rating....Spoiler: It's Celena and minor content warning they talk about Folken'sPEE. Yes I snickered a few times aboutthat. Also, I immensely abused the italicize button. XD ... Waitaminute, how did this even get to 1,900 words??? Haha.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Amber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mickaelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickaelle/gifts).



> So I was actually supposed to be labeck's gifter this year but I've been sick with Covid for almost three weeks now. Seven graciously offered to sub-in for me early in the posting week. Later in the week, when Nehasy reported that they were having kitting troubles :( and I looked at their recipient and read [Mick](https://www.deviantart.com/mick-aelle)'s wishlist, inspiration struck LIKE WOAH. I haven't had any inspiration in months. And yes, I'm finally feeling much better now. :)
> 
> Happy Holidays Mick! I hope you enjoy.
> 
> .

Folken adjusted the flame on his burner just the tiniest bit. He knew a watched beaker never boiled, but he waited patiently for the color change anyway. Keeping one eye on the clock in his laboratory, he counted down the minutes, checking his notes once to refresh his memory on his calculations. The color of the beaker darkened and - yep, he was only a minute off in his estimation. After writing down the new equation, Folken spent the next half an hour observing the intricately woven collection of beakers, tubes, and burners. He added components and adjusted burners as necessary, taking notes the entire time. 

A thought struck him on how to enhance the flamethrowers on the _Alseides_ _4_ units and he went to the massive chalkboard covering one wall of his laboratory to draw out the addition to the schematics already covering half the board. 

He’s never had less than three projects going at once. 

The call of nature knocked as he was almost finished and Folken sighed, perturbed at the interruption. 

Quickly he crossed the room to the corner where he kept nothing other than empty beakers for this specific purpose.

Couldn’t have his body fluids accidentally contaminating his experiments. 

The country couldn’t be taken out of the young man, despite his royal upbringing and living in Zaiback for nearly five years. Folken let himself smile as he remembered playing with Van out in the grand forests of Fanelia, teaching him how to urinate standing up. Their father had taught Folken, it was only right the elder brother teach the younger in his absence. Their mother’s response later that day though… 

Shaking his head at the memory of her soft eyes and smooth face sighing at boychild antics, Folken put the full beaker into the cabinet and went back to his projects. 

He started, dropping and breaking his precious chalk when the metal door creaked open and a young girl, barely out of childhood, slipped in on silent feet into his laboratory.

Rarely was he interrupted, as this whole level of the _Vione_ was his personal laboratory level and off-limits to nearly everyone. 

She gave him a shy smile as she closed the door behind her, her soft gray-blue eyes somehow incorrect on her rounded face framed by short, wavy, light blonde locks. There was a certain point to her nose, angle to her shoulders, and slightness to her tall, thin frame that escaped his recognition… _Her childish smile sat strangely on her face,_ as if it had taken up residence with the wrong person; both belonging to someone else… 

Folken blinked, his memory telling him she looked eerily similar to… someone, he couldn’t quite place who she looked akin to. 

Caught off-guard by her entrance and youthful _innocence_ , his violet eyes watched as she slowly wandered about his large room, trailing her hands over - _everything_ \- and humming. 

Belatedly he tucked his metal arm behind his back; his Madoshi cloak hung in his personal quarters, he never wore it in his laboratories. 

Then he realized she was padding about barefoot - _shouldn’t she be cold?_ \- and wearing the light teal, simple dress of the Madoshi’s fate experiment subjects. 

Well, that explained a girlchild’s presence on the _Vione_. 

A shudder went down his spine. 

He vehemently disagreed with fate altering _children_ who had no idea what was being done to them, despite the ideal of giving abandoned children a better life.

Folken jerked forward out of his thoughts and shocked state when she opened his urine cabinet in the corner. He reached her just as her pale, wrong-size hand pulled out a beaker. “No, please don’t - !” 

Her delicate, misplaced nose wrinkled: she’d pulled out a beaker from earlier in the day. “What _is_ this?” The not-quite giggle of an inquisitive child who _well_ knows they’re misbehaving sounds too young for her age. 

“It is - waste.” _It wasn’t a lie._ Folken approached her slowly, reaching palm up for the beaker. “Unnecessary and unneeded byproduct from my experiments.” _That **was** , but the truth was improper._

“It smells _awful!_ ” “Yes, yes it does, now please put it back in the cabinet.”

 _“Why_ are you even _keeping_ it?”

Folken arched an eyebrow, drawing closer as the girl kept hold of the beaker instead of doing as he’d instructed. “It simply hasn’t been disposed of yet.” Knowing how some children react too swiftly for their own good, he carefully drew closer.

“But you still _have_ it? Why haven’t you just ‘dis-pos-sed’ of it already by now?” The beaker was raised up to her nose again, and her face twisted into disgust. “It smells _so_ so _ga_ -ross! And you said you didn’t _need_ it! That it was by... by... _byproduct_.” Her face lit up jubilantly at finally saying the word.

Pausing in his careful reach - her speech pattern didn’t fit her age - he answered, “I am too busy with my research and experimentation to dispose of it myself. Twice a day a technical assistant aids me in this task. It simply is not yet time for them to arrive. Now, if you would _please_ release that.” Folken slowly, smoothly grasped the beaker, removing it from the girl’s tiny hand. 

That was a tone of voice he hadn’t used in five years; tree bark brown eyes blinked innocently in his memory.

The girl’s release of her hand and rather deft sprint caught him off guard and Folken nearly dropped the beaker. His nose wrinkled at the avoidance of the disaster. He hadn’t had a spill in nearly six months… and it would be a particularly nasty clean-up. 

_“Kindly_ do not touch that, _please_ young lady,” he instructed as he replaced the beaker in the cabinet. _Hn, he’d never had to think about **locking** it before…_ She’d flit to the intricate set up on the other side of the room. 

Adopting a guise of innocence, she clasped her hands behind her back and bent at the waist, leaning over precariously to peer at the glass beakers and variety of colors. 

“How did you even enter this level of the _Vione_?” Folken was pretty sure there were supposed to be a guard or two at the few entrances to his personal level. Sometimes the _Vione_ housed or gave transport to Zaiback’s army contingents. Rarely did any officer trespass, but they did get bored on occasion. Occasionally a _Vione_ inhabitant broke monotony and forayed where they shouldn’t. 

With swift caution, he crossed the room towards her.

“Ooooh, lookit the shiney _pretties!_ You mean how did I sneaked passed the guard at the doorway? He was sleeping!”

Folken’s face pinched; _words_ were going to be had with those on guard rotation today. 

He changed direction as the girl darted towards his chalkboard. 

“Aaaah, what’s _this_?”

“Do _not_ touch that, _please_.” 

His patience was swiftly departing, gaining speed as she reached her hands out, fingers spread wide, towards the carefully drawn white lines on black stone. 

Dashing forward, he caught her arm before she could destroy his hard work. 

Gray-blue eyes widened curiously, honing in on the jointed plates of his artificial hand. 

In his haste he’d forgotten to keep it hidden and the situation thus necessitating speed, he had reacted with his dominant hand. 

“ _What_ is _that_? It’s _so_ neat!” she chirped.

Stunned, Folken lowered himself to her level, keeping still as tiny fingers prodded into the many crevices of his artificial arm. 

Well, that was only _slightly_ better than her taking interest in anything _else_ in the room. 

Clearing his throat, Folken answered, “It’s called an artificial arm.”

“What does art-i… art-a… _fishy…_ ”

“Art-a-fish-al.” Slowly he repeated the pronunciation a few times, the girl following his lead, until she got it right. _Guy… guy… mel-leaf!_

Her little fingers were now following the main cord of his lower arm; she was being strangely heedulf, as if she understood it was a significant _part_ of his anatomy. 

“But, but what _is_ it?”

“I - ” A reptilian roar rumble-echoed in his ears. “A dragon tore off my real arm five years ago. Emperor Dornkirk gifted me with it. _Artificial_ is the opposite of _real._ It is a replacement arm for the one I lost.”

Her face squinted, as if some part of what he said should mean _something_. “But this is all metal and and - bolts and - and screws.” She gave a little gasp. _“That makes you part guy-mel-lif!!”_ Her face lit up and her whole body vibrated in excitement, as if she _just knew_ she’d said something extremely intelligent. 

Folken chuckled. “I guess it does.” 

_That thought had **terrified** him for a few days after he’d woken up from death._

A few too many guards had thought so too over the years; unable to keep their voices low.

The little girl was fascinated though, continuing to prudently examine the metal appendage. 

The door creaked again, “Miss Celena are you - Oh, there you are! You know you’re not supposed to - I’m very sorry, Lord Folken!”

The burnt gold dogman dropped to a knee, nearly tripping forward in his sudden halt of his forward momentum. 

Like a child’s large print book, Folken easily read the Junin’s desire to collect his charge but hesitancy to further enter the room that clearly belonged to the Madoshi. 

_Now how did **he** get past the guards?!_

The girl - Celena - solved his problem by dropping Folken’s arm, forgotten, and dashing to him. “Jajuka! You _finally_ found me!” She lept into his arms. The dogman caught her with one arm but remained kneeling. “What’s wrong?” Her lower lip trembled - Folken wasn’t sure if she realized she’d misbehaved or if it was the stiff demeanor of the Junin. 

Folken straightened and strode toward them, motioning for Jajuka to rise as well.

“I did something bad, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes Miss Celena. You know you’re not allowed to leave your level, nor are you to run away and hide from me.”

“I’m sowwy!” She buried her face in his neck.

The corners of Folken’s mouth quivered; clearly she was faking her over exaggeration. “It could have been worse. I believe it is not entirely her fault however; the guards seem to have… _relaxed_ in their duties today.”

Jajuka bowed his head. “I deeply apologize that Miss Celena interrupted your work, Lord Folken.”

Torn - it had actually been rather pleasant - Folken squared his shoulders. “See that it is not repeated.” The dogman nodded. “ _If_ you see the guardsmen on your way out, tell them to report for horseshit duty immediately. On my - ”

An enthusiastic gasp interrupted his statement. “Jajuka, Jajuka! He _swore!_ Why’m I not allowed to swear? It’s not fair!”

He had to refrain from smiling. 

“Shh, you mustn’t interrupt Lord Folken.”

“Whyyyy?”

“I’ll explain later.” He bowed his head again. “As you were saying?”

“It is on my orders. And if they argue, tell them I’ll triple it.”

“Yes, Lord Folken.” Jajuka bowed at the waist this time. “By your leave, Lord, I bid you a pleasant day.” He stood, tightened his hold on Celena, and began to exit.

“And you as well.”

The dogman started slightly, nodding his head in genuine appreciation as he and his charge disappeared into the hall, pulling the door shut behind them. 

With a chuckle, he returned to his projects.

Ten minutes later, Folken started, nearly dropping the beaker in his hand, when he remembered that the dogman Jajuka was assigned to the girlchild the Madoshi had fate altered into _Captain_ _Dilandau Albatou._

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of Ss in the words “assistant assists,” lol. :D 
> 
> … Hot _damn_ , I forgot about Folken’s metal arm??? WHAT KIND OF FAN AM I EVEN???


End file.
